


Down

by sciencefictioness



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Mating Bites, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Polyamory, Soulmates, brief angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-12 16:11:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11740566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sciencefictioness/pseuds/sciencefictioness
Summary: It wasn’t like fireworks.A lot of books written by the unmated described it that way.  Fireworks, explosions, sparks.  Something bright and loud and just this side of violent.  All that came later, sure, but it wasn’t how things started.At first, it was just gravity.A pull.  Something deep inside, tugging hard, until there was no choice but to follow where it led.There was no resisting the urge once it hit, no fighting the instinct.  Patients in hospitals woke up from anaesthesia and tried to climb off surgery tables.  Others yanked out IV’s, and catheters, and went limping down the street in hospital gowns.  Prisoners threw themselves at the bars of cells until they knocked themselves unconscious, or tried to climbs fences topped with razor wire, slicing skin open in the desperation to get out.  Not because they wanted to escape.Because they had to answer the call.





	1. Akaashi

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to think the person who made this possible, I hope you enjoy this!!
> 
> Also thanks to Rae and Grey for looking this over for me and helping me tweak it, you guys are much appreciated!
> 
> I'm splitting this piece up into four chapters, and I'll be posting a chapter a day for the next three days.

It wasn’t like fireworks.

 

A lot of books written by the unmated described it that way.  Fireworks, explosions, sparks.  Something bright and loud and just this side of violent.  All that came later, sure, but it wasn’t how things started.  

 

At first, it was just gravity.

 

A pull.  Something deep inside, tugging hard, until there was no choice but to follow where it led.  

 

There was no resisting the urge once it hit, no fighting the instinct.  Patients in hospitals woke up from anaesthesia and tried to climb off surgery tables.  Others yanked out IV’s, and catheters, and went limping down the street in hospital gowns.  Prisoners threw themselves at the bars of cells until they knocked themselves unconscious, or tried to climbs fences topped with razor wire, slicing skin open in the desperation to get out.  Not because they wanted to escape.

 

Because they had to answer the call.

 

Scientists had tried to nail down the exact proximity that triggered it, only to realize it varied widely.  Some people were a few yards apart when it kicked in.

 

Some were a few miles.

 

Akaashi had it fairly good, all things considered.  He only had to run about ten blocks, from the balcony of his cramped, shitty  apartment just outside of the university district, straight towards the student dorms. It wasn’t that far under normal circumstances, really, but the call had no respect for timing.

 

So he ran through a torrential downpour, in the middle of the night.  Shirtless, dressed in ratty pajama pants and a pair of mismatched socks.  

 

His instincts singing to him all the while,  _ faster, faster, faster. _

 

The omega in Akaashi had never been so close to the surface, right beneath his skin, desperate to take control.  

 

He met Bokuto halfway between the dorms and his apartment, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers with little owls printed on them and a bathrobe, his frazzled looking roommate running beside him with an umbrella.  When they first caught sight of each other, the strength of the call intensified.

 

From gravity to black hole.  From something tugging at Akaashi, to something tugging him inside out.  The world dropping out from under him, and it felt more like he was falling into Bokuto than running towards him.  

 

Bokuto’s mouth was on his, Akaashi’s hair plastered against his face as the heavens opened up.  Lightning tore apart the sky, and the wind whipped through the air, but everything seemed still and silent around them.  The eye of a storm, time standing still just so Akaashi could take Bokuto in.  

 

The scent of alpha swallowed Akaashi, the only thing he could smell through the rain, filling his nose. He never wanted to breathe anything else.  Strong arms wrapped him up tight, Bokuto’s skin hotter than it had any right to be, scorching Akaashi all the way down to his bones.

 

It felt like he’d been alone all his life, even though he hadn’t been lonely before.  A puzzle he thought he’d completed, only to realize he’d been missing pieces.

 

All the best parts, making the rest of it bleak in comparison.

 

Like he’d been seeing the world in black and white, only to have it suddenly full of color.

 

Bokuto’s hands were on his face the moment they broke apart, tracing his features hungrily, wide eyed and enraptured.  Fingers running over his lips, across his cheekbones.  His eyebrows, his jaw, the bridge of his nose.

 

“Beautiful,” Bokuto said, like he was seeing the stars for the first time.  He leaned in, rubbing his throat against Akaashi’s with barely leashed desperation, Bokuto’s scent glands wet and heated on Akaashi’s own.  

 

Akaashi had never been marked like that, never carried anyone else’s scent but his own.  He made a whining sound before he could stop himself, head falling further to the side to give Bokuto room.  Bokuto growled at the sight, teeth sinking into Akaashi’s neck, and the noise tapered off into a helpless whimper as he licked up the oil that started dripping from Akaashi’s glands.  His hands roved over Akaashi, fingertips grasping and releasing, only to seek purchase elsewhere.  Clutching, pulling at him, trying to get closer when they were already flush against one another, and Akaashi writhed into him, just as desperate for the contact.

 

“I can’t believe you’re mine.”

 

The words were hushed against his skin, reverent, his voice on the edge of breaking.  

 

Akaashi’s heat hit, hard and vicious and all at once, as he should have expected.  

 

They made it back to Akaashi’s apartment.  Barely.  It probably would have been faster if Bokuto hadn’t scooped Akaashi up in his arms and carried him the whole way, but Akaashi couldn’t find it in himself to complain.

 

He’d never felt like he belonged as much as he did in that moment, Bokuto’s mouth pressing worshipful kisses into his wet hair, whispering.  Telling Akaashi he was perfect, he was beautiful, he was breathtaking.  

 

They’d never met.  He didn’t know Bokuto.  Didn’t even know his name, at that point.

 

But Akaashi’s first thought was;  _ ‘it must be true, he wouldn’t lie to me.’ _

 

The next night when the worst of Akaashi’s heat had passed, Bokuto’s rut having come and gone again, they lay tangled together in the wreck of his bed.  Bokuto kissed softly at the bites he’d left on Akaashi’s throat, and chest, and thighs, a silent apology.  Akaashi let him.  Sank into the attention, unused to being the center of it from any one person.  The sense of completion was utter, and overwhelming, until Akaashi could barely breathe.  Everything he’d been missing, suddenly there, making him almost painfully whole.

 

For once in Akaashi’s life, everything felt right.

 

Until they woke up the next morning with the mark of the mated on only one side of their throats, instead of both, as it should have been.  A stripe of color, like a paintbrush carelessly dragged over their glands.  Even the mark they both possessed wasn’t the usual vivid red, but washed out pink.  Something that looked faded by sunlight, the color lost with overuse, when it had only appeared the night before.

 

Only with the lust of their cycles gone, with the rush of the sealing ebbing away, with the stark evidence of their imperfection staring back at them in the mirror, did they feel it.

 

The yawning emptiness buried inside them both.  Down below the thrumming ties of their bond, a rope stretched over a ravine, holding them dangerously aloft.

 

Days, weeks, months.  A year, more, and it didn’t close, or go away.  

 

Akaashi loved Bokuto, with all of himself, without reserve.  Didn’t think it was possible to love him any more.

 

And Bokuto, his adoration was visceral, and vivid, and unmerciful.  Something bright enough to blind Akaashi if he looked directly at it, too much to feel all at once, an ocean deep enough to drown him.

 

All of it holding them together, and still that emptiness hovered inside.  Flaring every time they looked in the mirror for too long, a constant reminder that they weren’t complete.

 

That what they had together wasn’t quite perfect.

 

So Bokuto held Akaashi tighter, and kissed him harder, and tried to be enough.

  
  



	2. Tsukishima

There was a river near Tsukishima’s childhood home, one he had to cross almost every day.  The bridge over it was wooden, and sturdy, but there were planks missing in a few places.  He didn’t have to think about it, muscle memory making him step over the empty spots automatically.  It was strong enough, stable enough, that Tsukishima didn’t hesitate to use it, didn’t worry about it collapsing.

 

But just because it wouldn’t fail him didn’t make it whole.

 

All the shattered places in his bond with Kuroo were the same.  Tsukishima knew where to step, treading carefully to keep from falling through, but it was still achingly incomplete.  

 

Kuroo would always hold him up, would keep him from falling, but Tsukishima could still hear the water rushing by them sometimes.  Late at night was the worst, when Kuroo had fallen asleep, leaving him alone with his thoughts.  

 

Alone to wonder if it was something broken in him.

 

It wasn’t as though they hadn’t discussed it together.  Kuroo did research, got on forums, looked up statistics.  Went to the university in his off time and talked to any professor who’d studied the mated in any way.  There was nothing wrong with either one of them, he told Tsukishima eventually, an unruffled certainty in his voice that Tsukishima couldn’t help but envy.

 

_ ‘We’re just missing someone.  It happens sometimes.  Not two, but three.  Odds are we’ll meet them eventually.  At least we have each other.’ _

 

Kuroo didn’t worry, so Tsukishima did it privately, enough for the both of them.  His heats came, and went, pulling Kuroo into ruts without fail each time.  The marks on their throats never darkened, and the hollow place inside them never filled.  If Kuroo scent marked Tsukishima more than an alpha usually did, if he was quietly possessive in public, if he was incredibly persistent about leaving hickeys and bites in Tsukishima’s skin for everyone to see, well.  

 

Neither of them mentioned it.

 

It was easier to ignore the shadows lurking in their bond at first, but as time dragged on, something inside of Tsukishima wore down with it.  Kuroo was so sure they were simply missing someone, a third person who would complete them both. 

 

Tsukishima didn’t know if it was that simple.  He agreed with Kuroo out loud,  _ yeah you’re right, that must be it,  _ mostly to keep from discussing it over and over again.

 

There were only so many different ways to say, _ ‘Maybe, maybe not.’ _

 

_ ‘Maybe we’ll be fucked up like this forever.’ _

 

Kuroo of all people didn’t deserve to be saddled with half a bond.

 

Half a mate, and a bitter one at that.

 

Tsukishima picked fights sometimes without meaning to, snapped at Kuroo for the littlest things, took offense when there was none intended.  Kuroo was a better alpha than he deserved, always patient with him, never rising to meet his bullshit.  He retreated when he could have engaged, knowing exactly what Tsukishima needed and giving it to him without fail.  Space, or closeness.  Silence, or assurances.  

 

Always right there, strong and steady and waiting for Tsukishima with open arms.

 

And Tsukki was sorry every time, Kuroo’s mouth soft in his hair,  _ it’s not your fault baby, it’s fine, don’t worry. _

 

Part of Tsukishima hated it.  Fate, or destiny, or whatever greater force had looked at Tsukishima and decided Kuroo needed more.  Looked at Kuroo and decided Tsukishima needed more.

 

Refused to give it to them, and so Tsukki wore scarves, and kept his eyes down, and pretended it was okay, like Kuroo said it was.

 

It wasn’t, and he didn’t know if it ever would be, but he’d try to pick up the slack fate had left them.


	3. Kuroo

Kuroo didn’t worry about their mate bond.  It was what it was, and stressing over it wasn’t going to help them.  It wasn’t weak, or even incomplete, as far as he was concerned.  There was just more to it, and that wasn’t a bad thing, even if it could be a little scary sometimes.  So Kuroo didn’t worry about it, because there wasn’t anything useful to worry about.  It was out of his hands.

 

Kuroo worried about Tsukishima instead.  

 

Kuroo worried about all the times he woke up in the night and found Tsukki staring at the ceiling, tracing his mark with his fingertips, a furrow etched into his brows.  Or the way he wore his headphones around his neck in public, setting them carefully over his throat, hiding it as best he could.  

 

How after his heat, Tsukki cried sometimes, hormones wreaking havoc on his emotions until he couldn’t hold the tide of misery at bay.

 

He couldn’t magically find their missing mate, no matter how badly he wanted to, so Kuroo poured his energy into Tsukishima.  Scent marked him every morning, until Tsukki was pretending to glare and shoving his face away.  Sucked bruises just above his collar, teeth marks etched around them sometimes.  Always, always had his hands on him, everywhere they went.  Entwining their fingers, or playing with Tsukishima’s hair, or nuzzling into his throat.

 

Tsukki was everything.   

 

Kuroo hated that he couldn’t see it, that he couldn’t ignore the vacant place in their bond and appreciate how perfect it already was, just the two of them.  Tsukishima looked at what they had, found it wanting, and blamed himself.  Fucked out and drained from his heat, looking up at Kuroo with his eyes bright and fathomless,  _ ‘I think there’s something wrong with me.’   _

 

As if he wasn’t the best thing that had ever happened to Kuroo.  As if he wasn’t his whole fucking world.

 

Which was why it seemed like a cosmic joke when Kuroo felt it.  Kuroo, not Tsukki.  Tsukki was at home, and Kuroo was alone, walking from one class to the next when something primal and overwhelming tugged at him.  Low in his belly, and then into his lungs, until it was hard to breathe.  He leaned forward and put his hands on his knees, trying to suck in air, and even if it had been years since it happened, the memory was vivid.  

 

Running past locker rooms, weaving around students, shoes squeaking over gymnasium floors.  Dodging in between professors, his teammates chasing after him,  _ Tetsurou are you okay? _

 

Locking eyes with Tsukishima from opposite ends of a long hallway had been the best kind of torture.  So close.

 

So far.

 

_ Mine,  _ he’d thought, legs carrying him forward so fast it was dizzying.

 

_ He’s mine. _

 

An immediate, all consuming sense of possession.  Not that Tsukki was an object to be owned, because he wasn’t.

 

But Kuroo needed to keep him fed, and warm, and safe, and clean.  Needed to give him anything he wanted.     

 

Needed to be everything for him.

 

Kuroo couldn’t, wasn’t capable of completing Tsukishima in the way he deserved, not by himself, but he hadn’t known that at first.  Before they came together, before they touched, before they learned just what it was like to be so full, and still so empty, there was a moment of perfect euphoria.  

 

A moment where he saw Tsukishima, and the world shivered beneath his feet, everything realigning itself to orbit Tsukki like the sun.  Gravity, ancient and irresistible.  Kuroo remembered.

 

His body remembered, too, reacting like it had been yesterday when he’d first felt the call, turning towards the new center of Kuroo’s universe.  

 

Because he needed to, but also because he needed to bring them home to Tsukki, and erase all those shadows out of his eyes for good.  

 

Even just facing the right direction gave him a palpable sense of relief, and there were chains around Kuroo, pulling hard at him, demanding compliance.  Leading him further away from home, towards the other side of town.  

 

Later on, he would do the math, and figure out how far he went.  Two and half miles, give or take, since he couldn’t remember the precise place he’d started.

 

Right then, there was only the pull, and Kuroo chased it without hesitation.  He didn’t play volleyball anymore, except casually on the weekends with Tsukishima and their friends, but Kuroo went to the gym religiously.  Sometimes with Tsukki, sometimes alone.  Maybe he couldn’t hang with the top tier college players anymore, his skills rusty with disuse as he focused on getting his degree, but Kuroo could still  _ run. _

 

He ignored crosswalks, horns honking angrily as he ran out in front them, brakes screeching more than once as drivers narrowly missed hitting him.  The crowds got thicker the further downtown he went, and Kuroo ducked around them, moving on autopilot.  His chest was heaving with exertion, because even if he ran farther on a treadmill at the gym regularly, he never threw himself into it quite so desperately.  Never pushed himself so hard it felt like his legs would fall out from under him, never felt dizzy with the need for air.

 

Acid in his veins, smoke in his lungs, hands shaking.

 

Only when he laid eyes on them for the first time did Kuroo realize how blind he’d been, so worried about Tsukishima’s feelings and needs that he hadn’t stopped to consider himself.  That he was waiting for someone, as much as Tsukki was, pieces of a whole not yet brought together.

 

That they were for him, too.  

 

It wasn’t hard to pick them out of the crowd, Kuroo’s instincts pointing them out at once, honing in on his mates effortlessly.  He froze for a moment as he stared at his mates, unable to make his feet obey.  Mates.  Plural.

 

Not three but four, and Tsukki would enjoy telling him later that even if he was right, he’d still been wrong. 

 

Both of them were frantically scanning the people around them, still moving towards Kuroo, eyes flitting from person to person.  One of them was a little taller, his hair dip dyed, stark white at the tips with black underneath.  Stocky, even at his height, broad shoulders, a wide frame.  The shorter one has ink black hair, and was noticeably leaner, delicate in comparison to his friend but still muscular.

 

Except they weren’t just friends.  

 

Kuroo could see the marks on one side of their throats.  Pink like his, like Tsukki’s.  Washed out.  Unfinished.

 

He made a noise in his throat, something whining and needy.  Kuroo wanted to call out to them, but he didn’t know their names, didn’t know what to say.

 

Then it didn’t matter, because they were right there in front of him, reaching out, eyes wide.  They slammed into him, running too fast to slow down in time, only their grasping hands stopping Kuroo from falling to the ground.  After making sure he had his balance again their touches went from steadying to clutching, clinging to Kuroo’s arms, stunned speechless as they stared at one another.

 

An alpha, and an omega, the darker haired of the two already sweet with scent of impending heat.  Drawn out by the pull before they’d even found each other, eager and impatient.

 

Drawn out by Kuroo, and he tugged the omega closer with a growl, nosing into his throat without thinking, ready to bite down on the smooth unmarked skin over his glands.  The omega whimpered, tilting his head to the side to give Kuroo room, offering himself.

 

Then Kuroo jolted hard, remembering he was a stranger, even if they were all soulmates.  They didn’t know his name, were in the middle of a crowded street.  

 

And Tsukishima wasn’t there.

 

Kuroo pulled back, flushed and sheepish, glancing over towards the alpha next to him.  Worried he’d be jealous, maybe, the pull of a new bond not as strong as the possessive instincts he already felt over this beautiful, delicious little omega.

 

Except he was smiling at Kuroo, bright eyed and brilliant, reaching up cup his cheek.  His fingers sank into Kuroo’s hair, thumb tracing over his cheek.  Evidently his apprehension must have been obvious, because the alpha was soothing him almost immediately.

 

“No, no, it’s fine, it’s okay. He’s- he’s yours, too, it’s-”

 

Whatever comforting thing he meant to say to Kuroo got lost in his mouth, less important than touching him, than kissing him.  He leaned forward to bring their lips together, and Kuroo wanted it, badly.  

 

Thought of Tsukki, and reeled backwards a few steps, one hand up in the air in a placating gesture.

 

“Wait, wait, just.  Wait.”  

 

They looked confused, the omega making a soft noise in his throat, upset at the sudden loss of contact.  Both of them held their arms out, like they wanted to reach for Kuroo but weren’t sure if they’d be refused.  It was hard to get the words out when all he wanted was to fall into them.  

 

Pick up the omega, and take the alpha by the hand, and lead them both home.

 

“There’s… There’s someone else, there’s-  I have a soulmate, already.  There’s four.  Of us.”  

 

Kuroo pulled the collar of his sweatshirt down, showing the pair his throat, and the mark he had there.  One that matched their own, and they reached up in unison to touch them at the sight of it.

 

“He’s… He’s been waiting so long, it just feels… can we go back to my place?  I need to call him, I need to tell him about you, I need to-”

 

The alpha interrupted his frantic, jumbling tirade with a hand on his arm.

 

“Hey, it’s okay.  You were walking, right?  You call him, I’ll flag down a cab to take us there.  But uh, I think you should… Keep an eye on Keiji for me.”  

 

Kuroo glanced down at the omega.  At Keiji, who looked worse for wear in just the few moments they’d been standing apart, cheeks flushed and eyes glassy.  Sweating, staring at Kuroo and breathing hard, his heat flaring up stronger by the second.

 

Kuroo’s mouth was watering, and his teeth were itching, and he needed to get this omega somewhere dark and quiet and soft.

 

Somewhere he could taste every inch of him, and breathe in his scent.  Kuroo could smell the alpha, too, the subtler tones of a rut in the air, itching at his nose.

 

_ For Tsukki,  _ he thought, and there was no jealousy there, no uncertainty, no possessive voice in his head rising up to snarl.

 

They were his, and they were Tsukki’s, and Kuroo felt like breaking, his lungs too full, his heart beating too fast in his chest.

 

“Keiji,” Kuroo said, and Keiji swayed into him, nodding furiously.  “I’m… I’m Kuroo.  Tetsurou.”  He let one of his arms slink around Akaashi, pawing at his pocket with the other, searching for his phone.

 

“Tetsurou, this is Akaashi Keiji.  I’m Bokuto Koutaro.  Let’s go see your soulmate, yeah?  Our soulmate, I mean.  What’s his name?”

 

“Tsukki,” he said, the nickname coming out on its own, “He’s perfect.  You’ll love him. He’s-”

 

_ -everything,  _ Kuroo wanted to say, but his phone interrupted him, vibrating in his pocket.  Kuroo fumbled it out, seeing Tsukishima’s name on the display and answering in a rush.

 

“Tsukki-”

 

“Kuroo, something’s happening, I-”

 

“There’s some people you need to meet, baby.  We’re coming home.”


	4. Bokuto

        

Jealous wasn’t the right word.

 

Bokuto was  _ possessive,  _ but it wasn’t that he didn’t trust Akaashi.

 

He just didn’t trust a lot of other alphas around him, because he knew how little respect some of them had for omegas.  He’d seen firsthand the way they reacted to Akaashi’s mate mark, unfinished and imperfect as it was.  

 

Like it wasn’t there at all.  As though Akaashi was broken, somehow, and needed to be fixed.

 

As though  _ they  _ needed to fix him.

 

So he wasn’t overbearing, but he also wasn’t going to let anyone make Akaashi uncomfortable.  And Akaashi didn’t like it if strange alphas got too close, or stared, or tried to catch his scent when he was on the cusp of a heat.  Bokuto didn’t always notice the cause, wasn’t always as conscious of his surroundings as he should be, but he was hyper-aware of Akaashi.  His expressions, his moods, his body language.  If an alpha they didn’t know was in his personal space, or touching him in a familiar way, Akaashi shrunk in on himself, or gravitated towards Bokuto, seeking the comfort of his mate.

 

Now there was another alpha sitting in between Akaashi and Bokuto in the backseat of a cab, and Akaashi was pressed in close.  Trying to get closer, slipping underneath Kuroo’s arm and throwing a leg over him, shifting until he was in Kuroo’s lap.  He fisted his hands in the fabric of Kuroo’s sweatshirt, Akaashi’s face shoved into his throat, body gone boneless against him.  One of Kuroo’s palms stroked up and down his spine, the other massaging the back of his neck gently.  Akaashi went still, breathing heavily, knees falling a little wider where he straddled Kuroo’s lap.

 

The picture of a willing omega, pliant and loose-limbed, ready to be claimed.

 

There  _ was  _ something possessive rising in Bokuto right then as he watched Akaashi melt into another alpha.  Not in a competitive way, but it made his chest tight so abruptly it almost hurt.

 

Sometimes he looked at Akaashi, and the idea that he was  _ his,  _ that he belonged to  _ Bokuto,  _ was almost more than he could wrap his mind around.  Right now he felt that same overwhelming sense of awe, reaching out to touch Kuroo’s face without meaning to, adoration written in the gesture.  Not only was Kuroo his, too, but there was someone else.  His mate, another omega.  Four of them, all made for each other, made to fit together.

 

Bokuto wasn’t sure his heart could take it, affection already welling until it overflowed as he turned Kuroo’s face towards his own and kissed him.  Kuroo didn’t let go of Akaashi, didn’t stop touching him, but he listed to the side in his eagerness to kiss Bokuto back.

 

Kuroo didn’t kiss like Akaashi did, didn’t follow Bokuto’s lead.  It was messy, and rough, tongues spilling against each other as he growled into it, teeth snaring Bokuto’s bottom lip and tugging.  The noise Bokuto made was pitiful, something whining and needy, and he tangled a hand in Kuroo’s hair, kissing him harder.

 

Kuroo’s mouth was distracting enough that he didn’t notice it right away, but as the cab headed into the residential district, weaving through streets dotted with quaint suburban homes, the feeling got too strong to ignore.  The pull, flaring up as they got closer to Kuroo’s house.  A bottomless pit in his gut, telling him to run, go, now,  _ please,  _ instincts not understanding that it was faster to wait and let the driver take them where they were going.

 

Bokuto pulled back from their kiss, glancing from house to house, but it didn’t take a lot of deduction to figure out which one was Kuroo’s.

 

There was a tall blond standing outside in the front yard, frazzled and wild eyed, glasses askew on his face.  Sleep ruffled and adorable, his hair sticking up on one side, hand clutching at his chest.

 

Bokuto was rolling out of the cab before it stopped all the way, stumbling gracelessly through the grass.  

 

He hadn’t meant to tackle Tsukki, exactly, but they ended up in a pile on the lawn anyway, a tangle of long limbs and searching hands.  Now that they were close the pull was fading fast, relying on their dynamics to take over from there and bond them together.  Instead of gravity tugging Bokuto in, now it was the scent of omega.   _ His  _ omega, sweet like Akaashi, but with different undertones, more subtle.  Nothing Bokuto could put a name to, but it made his mouth water, made his jaw ache with the need to bite.

 

Put his mark on Tsukki, and Kuroo, and Akaashi, etch his want in their skin with his teeth.

 

Tsukishima was looking at Bokuto with his brows furrowed, though, almost wary.  His eyes were wet as he took Bokuto in, his bottom lip trembling.

 

Like he expected him to disappear.

 

Bokuto grabbed his face with both hands, ready to say something, anything that would wipe away that anguished look.  

 

Then Kuroo was there, walking towards the door with Akaashi in his arms, his legs wrapped around Kuroo’s waist, hands clutching at his shoulders.  Akaashi reached out towards Tsukki, wordless, his long fingers grabbing at the air.  

 

Petulant, almost.  Silently demanding.   _ Come here, I want you,  _ and Bokuto couldn’t blame Tsukishima for struggling up to his feet and following after them like a lost puppy as they headed inside.  

 

No one could say no to Akaashi.

 

Or maybe it was just them, defenseless against his pretty eyes, and his soft mouth.

 

Owned, and they didn’t even know it yet.  Bokuto couldn’t help but smile.

 

Tsukki grabbed Bokuto’s hand, tangling their fingers together and pulling him along.  The door closed behind them, and shut out the whole world, and they fell into each other.

 

……

 

When Akaashi went into heat it was intense.  All encompassing, everything ceasing to exist besides the two of them, the best kind of tunnel vision.  Akaashi’s smell, and the noises he made, and the feel of his skin.  Bokuto couldn’t imagine anything more overwhelming.

 

Now his senses were raw.  Overstimulated, every touch and sound and taste bringing him further into euphoria until Bokuto felt drugged with it.

 

The four of them were piled in Kuroo and Akaashi’s bed, coiled together, scents heat and rut swelling up like a fog in the air.  Bokuto and Kuroo had done their best, but Akaashi and Tsukki’s heats seemed to play off of one another, getting stronger in the wake of the pull, making them even needier than before. 

 

So Bokuto lay on his back, catching his breath while Tsukishima straddled him, hips working faster and faster as he chased another orgasm.  He looked beautiful and fucked out, glasses long since abandoned.  His cheeks were flushed bright from exertion, sweat dripping down his throat, drawing Bokuto’s gaze to the mark there.

 

Bright red, now, as all of their marks were.  Solid.

 

Whole.

 

There were hickeys all over his throat and chest, teeth marks scattered over pale skin.  Mostly from Akaashi and Bokuto.  His thighs were bruised and bitten, too, slick shining on the insides of them.  Swollen lips, chest heaving, muscles shaking as they strained themselves to the breaking point.  It was hard to look away, but he didn’t have much choice.

 

Kuroo was laying next to him, Akaashi a mirror image of Tsukki in his lap.  Resplendent in the haze of his cycle.  Made perfect in the devastation of a heat.  Something Bokuto had seen a dozen times, but never tired of.  Kuroo growled and took a fistful of Bokuto’s hair as he brought their mouths together, hungry and demanding.  

 

Kept kissing him, long after they’d knotted Akaashi and Tsukishima, both of them sated and drowsy and half asleep on their chests, at least until the next rush of heat overtook them.  Usually Bokuto clung to those in between moments of rest and napped, but the exhaustion was almost an afterthought right then.  It was more important to kiss Kuroo, to run his fingers through his hair, to nose at his abused throat.

 

To talk in whispers, careful not to disturb their mates, and learn about each other.  

 

Making plans, already trying to figure out when they could move Bokuto and Akaashi in.  Buy a bigger bed, a bigger couch, more video game controllers.  Until then they would just have to make do with what they had.  Sleep squashed together on a mattress that was too small, and sit in each others laps, and take turns.

 

Because there was no way they were going home after this, not to stay.  A few dozen miles felt like an ocean.  An inconceivable distance.

 

Home was right there, sweaty and overheated with his legs falling asleep, Tsukki so heavy on his chest he could barely breathe.  Akaashi snoring, drooling on Kuuro’s throat, dead to the world.  Kuroo’s voice quiet in his ear, soft and soothing, until Bokuto was ready to drift off at the sound of it.

 

Home was people, not places, and Bokuto let Kuroo kiss him, and didn’t mourn his lost sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that concludes our trip, I hope you guys enjoyed your flight, thank you for flying air science.


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